A Good Place To Start
by ATTHS
Summary: Scully takes Mulder home after the end of Millennium. They deal with THE kiss in a very Mulder and Scully way.


Mulder could still hear the cheering on the television as he pushed the hospital door open and Scully stepped through it, heading toward the elevator. He could also hear his blood pounding in his ears and feel his lips burning from the kiss they had just shared.

Standing with her in that small waiting area, watching the New Year's Eve ball drop for what felt like the hundredth time in his life, the threat of the world possibly ending as the millennium hit, he took a chance. A big fucking chance.

He had hesitated for a second, and then threw caution to the wind. If the world did end, if they were to be plunged into some kind of apocalyptic future, he was going to be ballsy and take a chance. He had not been disappointed.

Scully reached the elevator and hit the down button. She turned to him, her arms crossed, looking down, a small smile playing on her lips. He smiled at the sight of her, remembering again the feel of his lips on hers.

She glanced up at him as the elevator announced its arrival. She looked away as she stepped inside, the same smile on her face as the one twitching again at the corners of his mouth, as he followed her inside.

She pushed the lobby button and they rode the elevator in silence, his thoughts racing. The doors opened and they were greeted to singing coming from the lobby. Some nurses and staff had the room to themselves and they took advantage of it to celebrate the new year. They stopped to watch them for a few seconds, continuing on when Mulder touched Scully's shoulder.

She turned toward the exit, glancing back once more before they walked outside. "They seem to be having fun. Good thing the world didn't end," she said coyly, her eyes once again looking forward. He grinned and followed her out.

Scully had driven her car to the hospital and made arrangements for his to be driven back to the bureau. He kept pace with her, arriving at her car fairly quickly. She fussed over him as she helped him to get in the car, mindful of his sore arm.

"I'm okay, Scully," he said, sitting down with a painful huff. "No need to fuss."

"Shut up, would you?" she said, as she helped him buckle his seat belt. He caught a whiff of the scent of her hair and closed his eyes before opening them quickly, lest she think he was being creepy.

He waited until she shut the door and walked to the drivers side to grimace with pain. His arm hurt like hell, but he did not want to admit it. He winced as he moved it a bit, adjusting the seat belt, taking a deep breath before Scully opened the door.

She got in and closed the door, putting on her own seatbelt. She glanced over at him before she started the car, and he nodded. Putting his head back against the headrest, he closed his eyes, the stress of the day catching up to him.

He opened his eyes as the car stopped and he looked around. He must have dozed off as they were already in front of his apartment. He blinked his eyes as he heard the car being placed into park and the engine becoming silent. Scully took the keys from the ignition and exited the car.

She opened his door and leaned in again, this time unbuckling his seatbelt. He groaned slightly when she bumped his arm. She apologized softly as she caught the seatbelt and slowly guided it off his body. He sighed as she did it and then stepped back.

He pushed himself forward, his arm throbbing, as her hand reached out to help him. He took her hand and she pulled him gently to his feet. He stood, somewhat wobbly, leaning against the car as he regained his balance, keeping a hold of her hand. Her eyes were on his, watching for any sign he was not okay.

He exhaled and took a step forward, still holding her hand as she closed the door and locked the car. He laced his fingers with hers and he heard her give a soft chuckle but she did not pull her hand away. He walked toward his lobby and then into the elevator. At his door, he waited while she unlocked the door, left handed and shaky, her other hand held in his. She swore and he laughed.

The door finally opened and they stepped inside. She dropped his hand and walked into the kitchen, taking off her jacket as she did. He heard the water running and looked to see her coming back with a glass of water.

"Sit down," she said, pulling out a chair at the table. He sat as she set the glass down and left the room, heading toward his bedroom.

She came back a few minutes later with the first aid kit she had created just for him. Gauze, bandages, medical tape, scissors, and even latex gloves were in the box. She set the box on the table and reached for his sling, carefully loosening it and helping him take it off. He hissed as it was removed completely and he rested his arm on the table.

"Do you want to change your shirt? Now would be the time to do it, so I could help you," she said, as she set the sling on the table, turning to him with her eyebrows up. "Or maybe you want to take a shower? I could wait and then help rewrap your wound."

"Scully, if you want me naked, all you have to do is ask," he said, leering at her.

She shook her head, but could not keep the smile from her face. She looked at him, attempting to be stern and he smiled, making her laugh.

"They said not to shower until tomorrow, so maybe just a change of clothes would be enough," he said, standing up and groaning.

She stopped him and pushed on his good shoulder, wordlessly telling him to sit down. He obeyed and she walked back into his room. A few minutes later she was back with a different shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms. Handling them over, he took them and stood again, beginning to reach for the buttons on his jeans when she stopped him.

"Your shoes, Mulder," she said, bending down to untie his shoes and remove them. He watched her and tried to not let any unnecessary thoughts enter his brain. When her hands reached for the button on his jeans, he protested.

"Mulder, you're in no shape," she argued, but was cut off.

"Scully, no," he said forcefully, stopping her hands, staring at her. She stared back and nodded, turning to go back into the kitchen.

He shook his head at the thought of her taking off his pants after the fact that he kissed her less than an hour ago. As much as the idea sent his heart racing, his blood pounding, she was right- he was in no shape. No shape to follow through on any of the thoughts swirling in his head.

He carefully but painfully, took off his jeans and put on his pajama pants. He sat down, feeling sweaty and weak. He had lost a lot of blood and he was feeling it now. He exhaled a loud breath and Scully appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Oh, Mulder," she said quietly, walking over to him, quickly and expertly helping him change his shirt, before he could even think of a witty remark.

She sat down and rolled up his sleeve to examine the cuts he had received in the basement. There were three total, and two had needed stitches. Regardless of any injury he had, anytime she brought him home, she always rewrapped what the doctor or nurse had done. Almost every time, she shook her head and sighed, muttering about their work and wondering who taught them to care for patients.

He never noticed it looked or felt differently than what had been on the injury, but he never fought her on it. Why would he, when it meant her small but capable hands were somewhere on his body for an extended period of time? When he was able to look at her without her noticing, her focus so intent on caring for him? If he told her he did not mind the pain of the injuries, she would think he was crazy. He did not mind it though, because his favorite part was the moment when she played doctor and fixed him up.

She was unwrapping his bandages and wincing as his injuries were revealed to him. They looked good, the stitches nice and clean. He knew in a few days they would itch like a son of a bitch, but right now they were okay. She cleaned around them again, gently wiping with a wet cloth she had grabbed. She waved her hand over his arm, drying the area, as she looked at the deep scratches and shook her head again.

"Mulder, you're lucky they didn't rip your arm off, or kill you. I know this is painful and will be for a few days, but you got off easy, considering," she said, looking up at him reproachfully.

"No shit," he agreed. "I thought for sure we were goners before you showed up and went all Wild West on them." He smiled at her and then winced as she began to wrap his arm. She smiled, her eyes on her task.

He looked down at the scratches on her neck and shook his head. "Scully, I'm sorry," he said quietly, reaching to touch her neck with his left hand. She shivered and her eyes closed momentarily, her hands pausing in their ministrations.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she told him, her voice slightly higher than normal as his fingers stroked across her neck. She tilted her head away from his touch slightly and he moved his hand, letting her finish what she had started.

When she had his arm wrapped, she adjusted his shirt, and cleaned up the mess she had made, throwing out the dirty bandages. She came back into the dining room and helped him with his sling, gently settling it around his neck and adjusting it again. He had to fight the urge to grab onto her waist as she stood in front of him, absorbed in her task and oblivious of the inner battle waging inside him.

He was eye to eye with her chest and he had to work at directing his sight elsewhere. She would leave soon and he would walk her to the door. If he stood up with an erection, he would be mortified.

Pus, blood, digging through body parts, pus.. Okay, that did the trick.

"There, Mulder," she said softly, with one final adjustment. "That should be good. They gave you pain medication right?" She stepped back and he looked down at his arm. It _did_ feel better than how it had in the hospital. She had been right once again.

He smiled and nodded, looking up at her. "It should be in my jeans pocket," he said. She nodded and grabbed his pants, searching in the pockets. She found the bottle of the few pills they had given him, opened the top, and took one out.

She handed it to him and picked up the glass of water, giving both to him. He took the pill first and popped it in his mouth, then took the glass and drained it in a few gulps. She replaced the cap and put the bottle on the table. She took his glass from him, went into the kitchen, and refilled it.

"You need to sleep. Bed or couch?" she asked, walking from the kitchen and standing in the doorway to his living room.

"Bed," he said, standing slowly while she took the glass of water into his room. God, his arm was throbbing again, hopefully the medicine would work quickly.

She came back out of his room and picked up her jacket from the dining room chair, sliding her arms inside. She took her keys from her pocket and fidgeted with them, not looking at him.

"Well," she said, running a hand over her hair, finally glancing at him. "I should let you get some sleep. Remember to watch for infection. Put some of the ointment on it tomorrow or the next day and keep it wrapped."

"Scully, you're talking to a pro stitches receiver here, I've got this," he said with a smile. She smiled back and walked toward the door, him following right behind.

"So, uh," she said, her hand on the doorknob, her back to him. "Happy New Year, Mulder. You really know how to ring it in with a bang."

He desperately wanted to say what was on the tip of his tongue, that there was not a _bang_, at least not like he would have liked. He stayed silent however, and let that thought drift out into the universe. She turned around and her gaze was piercing, seeming to go right through him. His breath caught, his heart stopped, and his mouth went dry. She looked at his lips and licked her own.

Seconds that felt like an eternity passed before she took a single step forward and placed her lips on his. It was a bit longer than the kiss at the hospital, still just as chaste, and yet he felt it in his toes. She stepped back, her hand lightly resting on his chest. She moved her hand and smiled at him, her eyes searching his, a million silent words colliding between them as they stood there in the entryway of his apartment.

She turned the door handle without breaking eye contact, her smile remaining in place. The door opened and she stepped backwards through it, still staring at him. Finally she looked away and down the hall, taking a breath, as if gathering courage.

"The world didn't end," she said quietly, his words reverberated back at him, now a statement more than a question, her smile gone and completely serious.

"No, it didn't," he echoed her words quietly back to her, watching and waiting for what he knew she was working up the nerve to say.

She nodded, looked down, and then back to his face. "The world didn't end," she stated more firmly, though equally as quiet. He stared at her and nodded, understanding beginning to dawn on him. She nodded again and turned to walk away.

She made it two steps before she turned around. "You know, the millennium marked a moment for a lot of people. Maybe people were convinced they would die or the world _would _end," she said in that same quiet tone, causing him to lean in and hang on her every word. "Maybe there was something people were putting off, or felt was unattainable, and now they see that they have tomorrow and next week, next year, a lifetime perhaps. The unattainable may have always seemed so far past their grasp and yet.. was always within reach. Maybe tonight they took the chance to reach for what they wanted and they found that there was an answering call on the other side. Maybe now they know, and maybe that's what they need to move forward."

He stared at her, the feel of her lips once again something he had been graced with, her words ringing in his ears, and he began to smile. Happiness unable to be contained, he felt his grin becoming wider.

He nodded his head, as if pondering over her words, but he could think of only one response to give her.

"Maybe," he said, hoping his smile, the kisses they had shared, and their entire past would convey how much that one word meant.

She grinned back at him and he knew she understood. They smiled at each other before she turned and walked toward the elevator. She pushed the button and turned around, watching him as the elevator made its way to her. When it arrived and she stepped inside, she looked at him once more before the door closed.

""Maybe" is a good place to start," she said, just loud enough for him to hear, as the door closed.

He grinned and then laughed quietly, it was indeed a good place to start. He walked inside and shut the door, feeling dizzy as he turned around to lock up, the medicine starting to kick in.

He turned off the lights and headed to his room, where he found that Scully had already pulled back his sheets. He carefully sat on the bed and figured out the best way to lie down. Once he was situated just so, he closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes.

His dreams were odd as they usually were when he took heavy pain medication. He dreamt of a house somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It was an unassuming house, nothing fancy or special about it that he could tell from the outside. He seemed to float up a gravel driveway and could hear something that called him closer. He got to the stairs and walked to the front door. He tried to open it, but it was locked.

The windows were dark, no way to see inside. He heard the sound again and the porch swing beside him moved, though no one was there. Once more he heard it, and felt a presence beside him. He could not figure out the how or why, but he recognized the sound of Scully's laughter. She was somehow at this house and she was happy.

He shifted in his sleep, trying to hold onto the dream. He could see it disappearing like smoke, the memory of it fading, but her laughter remaining. Maybe this house was a place Scully would be one day. Maybe she would sit on that porch swing. And maybe, the cause of her laughter would be him, as he brought her delight and happiness.

Maybe..


End file.
